If The Juice Is Worth The Squeeze Bam Margera
by gschwind
Summary: When Andy Hull returns to a familar West Cheaster, Pennsylvania after a life she had known in New York City, her life gets turned upside down. Chapter One; Background on Andy and her situation. Bam appears in chapter 2. I apologize for any grammar errors
1. Chapter 1

I could be standing on the corner of 44th St in New York City waving a cab to work in my black wool, pleated Prada coat and my new Chanel boots. I could be inside my two bedroom, two bath apartment in _The Metropolis _watching re-runs of Gilmore Girls. Or I could be dining with my boyfriend-ex-boyfriend-almost -fiancé at _Murano Ristorante_ or clubbing at _Zanzibar._ I could be, but I'm not.

Call me crazy, but I'm not. I didn't even grab my things. I just bolted.

The night is cold and stingy on my legs at I exit the ground floor onto 44th St. By now, he is probably on the 10th floor, bouncing nervously in the elevator, still holding it in his hand. Still holding it. And I am wearing my D&G sateen bustier dress that I bought from Saks 5th Avenue with my black Christain Louboutin pumps. My Neiman Marcus Burberry prorsum sateen trench is tied tightly around me. My Sterling silver necklace with pavé diamond jewel beads by David Yurman? My Robert Coin diamond stud earrings? They are heavy and cold against my skin. And this is all I know.

I head for the Grand Central Terminal. He is probably on the 5th floor by now and still holding it. By the time he hits ground floor, I will already be heading towards Park Avenue.

I sat on a bench inside the termal until Harry got there. It was about 4 in the morning. Harry and I don't say a word the entire 2 hour drive to Bridgeport, Pennsylvania. Not one. I look at my father as his eyes are set on the road, and I want to hug him because I'm a pain in the ass for doing this to him.  
Harry's small house is on Union Avenue, the base for my adolescene and pick-up on Saturdays to return to Norristown with my Mother. My Mother lived and still lives with Phil in a nice house in front of a much more congested, low-income neighborhood. They are happy.  
The house smells like Febreeze and Clean Cotton Yankee Candle. It's mostly hardwood and furniture-less, as I remember it when I left almost 6 years ago. I visited twice since then, and it looked just like it does now. Harry sits on the cheap couch that he bought from Tony Crenshaw in 85'. It was the summer, and I was six years old. And My mom hated my Dad, and my Dad hated my Mom. And now it is January 1st, 2004 and I am 24 years old, and my Mom tries to avoid talking to my Dad, and my dad doesn't care anymore.  
Nothing ever really changes, now does it?  
He looks at me and sighs, patting the place next to him. I walk over and sit down and he stares at me for a while, and I just look at the dusty hardwood floor.  
"Well, I suppose you can stay with me for a while, hmm?"  
I bite my lip, "Well, I was wondering if I would just stay with Jeremy for a while, you know?"  
He scrunches up his eyebrows and nods. Harry knows how close I am to my brother.  
"I'll call him tomorrow. In the mea time, you should get some sleep An. Your room is still the way you left it."  
I stare down at my Christain Louboutin pumps and I frown, "Harry? Can you do me a favor?"  
"Sure, Andy."  
"Can you call Steven and tell him to mail my stuff to Jeremy's. Like, all of my stuff. All of it."  
"An, I'm sure you'll be heading up there again in no time, this is all just a little-"  
"Harry, please?" I stare at him intently. For I have no intention on going back.  
"Alright. If you are sure."  
I nod and look down, noticing a scratch on my left pump. I scowl.  
"Anything else?"  
"No. Thank you." He tells me goodnight, and to go to bed. And I feel 6 again.

By 9 the next morning, Steve has called twice, and I tell Harry to tell him that I will call him back. But I won't, not for a while. Steven probably deserves some explaination as to why I left, but I haven't peiced it all together, and I want to tell him when everything makes sense.  
Harry also informed him I wanted my things shipped to jeremy's whe he had the chance,and Harry told me he got really quiet then, and said he would start getting everything together. He then calls Jeremy, and I pack whats left of my old clothes in my old room.  
By 10, Harry is driving me to West Chester, where my brother lives. It's this small college town that Harry used to drive us through on weekends, just to get away.  
Jeremy lives in a small house right near the middle of town. He still works part time in retail at The King of Prussia mall, and he designs tattoo's. He was supposed to go back to college 500 times, and he was supposed to get married twice. Lets just say that he has a hard time with long-term commitment. He is smoking a cigarette on his front porch as we pull into his driveway. He waves and tosses his cigarette. I haven't seen my brother since before Christmas, and he already has from what I can see, 4 new tattoos and an eyebrow peircing. He got snakebites when he was 18, and his gauges have gone up to double zeros since then. His hair is in a tangly curly mess. He's had the same boots since his junior year in high school. I just remember that his 26th birthday is in a week. I feel bad.  
"Hey Andy girl!" he smiles with his arms wide open, and I give him a hug. Harry tells me he needs to talk to Jeremy in private. After 24 years I have finaly realized that this means as soon as I am far enough to where I can't hear the conversation, my Dad will go into great detail about what is going on with me and what I've gotten myself into this time. I roll my eyes.  
I tell Jeremy everything after Harry leaves. About my romantic night out in the city with Steven. About the incredible wine and lobster. That we cuddled as we watched fireworks for the New Year. And then when he asked me, and I left. I didn't look back and I left. Jeremy looks at me and lights up a cigarette  
"Well," he says blowing smoke ou from his mouth, "I guess sometimes it makes more sense to walk away."  
And we leave it at that.

For the next week, I still didn't call Steven. The week after I met Jeremy's girlfriend Michelle, and I got several packages in the mail from Steven Hardin. They included my clothing, my polaroid, and my Nikon, my shoes, and other little trinkets, and a note begging for me to call him soon. The week after I finally called the apartment, and I still didn't know what to say.  
"Hello?"  
And I sit there.  
"Hello? Andy?"  
"Hey Steven."  
"Andy, please, what is going on. I have been worried sick and I don't know what...."  
His voice trails into spirals of nothingness, and I bit my lip so hard it bleeds.  
"I don't want to marry you Steven."  
"Andy...oh Andy I would think so since you ran off like that. If you're not ready yet then we can wait a while, you don't have to haul off to nowhere and live with your brother. We can work this out. We can wait and I can wait and-"  
"Steven, I don't want to be with you."  
"Andy what are talking about?"  
"Steven..."  
"What!? Andy, what!?"  
"I'm not in love with you anymore, Steven. I haven't been for a long time and it took you to get down on one knee and ask me to marry you for me to realize that."  
There is a silence for a long time, and I don't feel the need to cry. I think about when I met Steven in Times Square. I think about our first date and when we bought the apartment. I think about all of the things he suprised me with and the times we made love after a good night out. And all of it comes with no feeling. For the first time I've thought about it, none if it means the same as it did two years ago.  
"Okay. Well, uh, yeah...well the office has been calling since you haven't showed up for work....um. I told them you had a family emergency. Uh.."  
"Steven just tell them to fire me."  
"Wait...what!?"  
"Steven I'll call them tomorrow and tell them to fire me."  
"So you're not coming back?"  
"No."  
"Andy..."  
"Steven, I'm going to go."  
"But,"  
"Steven I'm hanging up and nothing you say is going to change my mind about my job, about you or New York. You've always talked me out of things and blinded me by things and I'm not doing it anymore. Good bye."  
"You're really going to end a two and half year relationship over the phone?"  
"Steven the majority of our relationship was over the phone, now good bye!"

Within the next month I lost a job and got one, met new people and shopped at The King Of Prussia Mall. I did not get designer anything because it was all that I knew and I didn't want to know it anymore. I worked as a waitress because I miss the excellent tips and the atmosphere of it all. Waiting tables throughout high school and part of college was one of the best things I had ever done. Before Steven, before I became a washed up drone. Not that I blame him, I just wasn't myself for two and a half years. And I was finally getting back into tune.

It wasn't until the middle of March when my whole world turned an entire 360.  
And what I had known would never, ever be the same.


	2. Chapter 2

It began warming up in the middle of March. The last of the snow was melting away and people began to paint flowers and grass on the store windows. Spring is my least favorite time of the year. It is infested with pollen and wet weather.

I sit behind the bar in Rex's sipping on a Corona. My shift had ended two hours ago, but Jamie still hadn't shown up, which is typical and annoying, to say the least. I didn't mind though. Mickey tossed me free beers, and I read the newest book I had purchased with the last of the $500 and 50 something I had brought with me from New York. It is a Wednesday, a slow night. Mickey, my boss sits beside me reading _Times _magazine sipping on a Bud Ice. I once told him that Bud Ice was possibly the worst beer in the world. We fought about this frequently.

"So what's the news boss?"  
"This world is going to straight to fucking hell."

" You're just now figuring this out? Seriously Mickey, when Bud Ice was announced one of the top selling beers in the country, this country went to hell."  
Mickey looks up from page 24 and looks directly at me. He shuts the magazine and tosses it on the counter, but grips his beer tightly, "Bud Ice has an incredibly quinchy bitter taste, and it's cheap. I'm poor, it's cheap and good. You understand what I'm saying?"

I lift an eyebrow, "I just recently became broke myself, but I still don't settle for that fucking shit."  
"You're fired."  
"How many times have I been fired?"  
"Ten."

"Well in that case, I'm going home and taking my numb ass to bed."  
He sighs, "No the hell you aren't. I need someone working bar."  
"You can work bar," I negotiate.

"Sorry, I'm too busy learning how fucked up our economy is," he points to the magazine on the counter. I take the last sip of my beer and re-open my book. We have three people eating, and one old man drinking Miller Light. I should go home.

"You know, the best beer I ever had?" I begin.  
"Bud Ice?"  
"Ha-ha," I say, "No. One year my brother, Jeremy went on this Europe road trip with his buddies, and they went to Finland last, in a town called Lahti,"  
"Mhm."  
"And he brought back this beer called Lapin Kulta. It has this extremely smooth taste and it smells like a fruit almost, but it tastes rich and malt," I close my eyes remembering the sweet taste. I wonder if he brought it back legally.

"Well, as I said, I'm poor. I'll never go to Finland."

I smile, and throw my empty bottle into the green recycling bin under the last shelf of the inner bar. Corona sounds like Bud Ice now. I look at myself in the mirror plated behind shelves of beer and liquor. No designer. The jeans I wore were bought from Pac Sun, and my v-neck was a dark purple on sale tee I got from Urban Outfitters. I still hadn't touched my clothes that Steven had sent to me. They were all I knew. My hair wasn't styled, it just hung loosely from an attempted ponytail, and my long eyelashes posed at the only make-up I had on. . It was closing in on 10.  
Jeremy's old couch sounds like a good place to be. It is so wonderfully placed far enough from his bedroom so I don't hear Michelle bitching at Jeremy about getting married. I had decided she was an idiot a few days ago when she bought her own engagement ring. Jeremy would shit if he knew she was running around West Chester claiming to be the future Mrs. Hull. I laugh at my vision of his face. Terrified.

The door swings open and four men come in looking wide awake and all smiles.  
Great, just when I thought Mick would just let me go home. Two of them supported untamed dirty beards, and the other two had clean faces and when I say clean I mean no facial hair, not the appearance of their skin. They all looked like they needed a bath.  
Mick eyes me, because the only waitress we have on floor is taking a ridiculously long smoke break. I grab a notepad from the counter and walk my way to the table that sat themselves at.

"Hey guys, what's it gonna be tonight?" I ask, before reaching the table.  
"Four Coronas and a plate of those chip things?" The tallest one asks.  
"Hey, Jess. Get some of that spinach dip stuff."  
"Chad, that stuff smells like your ass, please seriously I'll puke," one of the clean faced man states. This man looks up at me and winks.  
"Okay, some of that spinach shit," 'Jess' says.

"That's all?" I ask, leaning against the table.  
"Nah babe, add another Corona,"  
"Doubling up?" I ask.  
"Nah babe, we got another comin'. By the way I'm Novak," This is the same man who has winked at me.  
"And my name isn't babe," I state, rolling my eyes. The other men smile at me, laughing at 'Novak'. I walk off and slide to pad to Mickey, who glares at me for my unfriendly gesture to the pig at table 4.

"What?" I glare.  
"I'm laughing if you get s shit tip."  
"If I get a shit tip, I will walk after the son-of-a-bitch and yank his wallet out of his shit jeans. I've been working 2 hours overtime and I will not accept bullshit pay for Carrie's smoke break," I say as I walk back to the kitchen.  
"Mitch, I need some chips and some of that spinach dip."  
"Should I spit in it?" he askes by the tone of my voice.  
"No, the smell is bad enough."

I laugh as the pig at table 4 gags at the spinach dip. I love personal payback. I look down at my book, _Lullaby _by Chuck Palahniuk. My favorite author. I fill my head with it's contents and drown out the laughing and gagging at table 4. I set my left elbow on the counter and twirl my hair with my hand.

"Hey, Mick," a voice emerges from the door.

"Hey, Bam, how's it goin?"  
"Shit-not, you?"  
"Slow as fuck. The boys bought ya a beer, holler if it's too hot."  
I haven't looked up yet. _**Holler my ass, because I'll have to get up and take your fucking fresh beer to pig table, and I just got to the part when Streator starts killing people with the Culling Song. Great timing asshole.  
**_ "Chuck Palahniuk, huh?"  
I look up at the man who addressed my novel. Huge blue sea eyes scanned me as I lifted my eyes up to his face. He also supported a scruffy beard and his dark hair was covered with a Crown Cap Eskimo style rabbit fur hat. He lifts an eyebrow at me.  
"Yeah, he's great," I say picking up the book and shaking it.  
"Invisible Monsters is his best."  
"I have to agree," I remark. He gives me a crooked smile and winks. Only his wink sent shivers down my spine. He walks to table 4 pushing over 'Jess' and takes his seat.  
I swing my head to Mick, who's eyes were wide at his magazine, but I knew they were referring to me. I bite my lower lip.

"Who is that?"  
"Bam Margera."  
"What? Wait. Why does that sound familiar?" I whisper.

"He's a professional skateboarder. You know the television shows; Jackass, Viva La Bam," He whispers back.

I never watch television, and I regret now that the only show I even paid close attention to was Gilmore Girls. I shake my head and look back at my book.

"And he just got out of like a 6 year relationship," Mickey whispers.  
I blush, "I'm not interested," I mouth.

He rolls his eyes, "My ass."

"Hey Mick,"  
"Yeah, Bam, beer cold?"  
"Nah, I'm hungry, where's your waitresses around here?"  
Mick eyes me, and I look at him sternly. He mouths 'Go' to me. I look at the table of men, all staring back, and Bam eyeing me so directly I thought I might hide under the bar. I grab the notepad and walk slowly to table 4, telling myself I was acting like a teenager all over again with my nerves.  
As I approach table 4 I notice there are napkins soaking up either beer or puke, I didn't want to know.  
"Yes?" I squeak.  
"Can I get the Chicken sub, please?" Bam asks. I nod and ask if they want anything else.  
"Another thing of this spinach dip," says 'Chad'. I hear the pig mumble 'Fuck' under his breath. After giving the order to Mitch, Carrie walked in on her phone. Usually her smoke breaks included another argument with her ex-husband, Pete. She said 'Bye' and shut her phone, slamming it on the counter.

"Sorry, Andy. Fucking piece of shit dick," she says, staring at her phone. A pack of Kools emerge from her pocket and she sighs.

"It's fine," I lied, "I understand," I lied again. I often wonder if she could just wait until she got home to bitch at her ex-husband about being late on his child support. I think she does this on purpose.

"So anything I can do?" she asks.  
"When the Chicken sub and spinach dip is ready, take it to table 4," Mitch says, from behind his magazine.

It was going on 11:30 when the guys at table four all shuffled out of the booth. Bam stayed counting money onto the table. He shoved his wallet into his back pocket and stared at me as he walked to the door. About halfway, he lowered his head and exited.  
I bolted for table 4, letting Carrie know whatever was on that table was mine. I looked down at two 50 dollar bills. My mouth widened. The bill was only $22.95. I picked them up and noticed a small piece of napkin under it.

_Party tomorrow night. I hope to see you, Andy._

With that there was also an included address and a time. He remembered my name. Did I even tell him my name? I grew with excitement. What was even more composing was the fact that I was off Saturday night.  
I took the napkin and walked towards the bar.


	3. Chapter 3

What I remember is that my Mother used to do 'Birthday Eves', and that you got a cupcake and one present the day before your birthday. This is when Harry and my Mother started hating each other, when those 'Birthday eves' became familiar, and everything of your childhood seems off well. This is when my Mother said, 'Fuck you' and leaves.  
But before this I remember her taking baths in the hall bathroom, still with a t-shirt on, and she would smoke a cigarette and cry. She doesn't know that I know this. Before this I remember her kissing Phil Abreson in November under our front yard oak tree when Harry was sleeping in the room next to me. She was still Annie Hull then, and in a year and a half she would be Annie Abreson. Phil was our neighbor. He had a wife, Karen Abreson. My mother ruined that. And Phil ruined Harry. This is how the world works.  
She doesn't know I know this.  
What I remember is that she would drive to Philly every few weekends with me and Jeremy just to get away from her double life, and on our way home this one time she pulled over on the side of the road and cried. This kind of crying is that yelling type of crying. Jeremy covered my ears. He was older than me and I looked up to him. She cried for a short time, and then pulled back onto the freeway like nothing happened.  
I know she knows that I remember this. It was this summer that Harry bought the couch he still has from Tony Crenshaw, and my Mother took everything but us to Hawaii.  
She loves us, she just loves Phil more, and I just now get this after so many years.  
This is probably why I left Steven, because of what marriage did to my parents, I'm just telling myself that I wasn't in love with him anymore, it had nothing to do wit my fucked up childhood and my Mother's abandonment.  
Or maybe it really doesn't have anything to do with that. Maybe two people can stop loving each other for no reason at all.

I hold the napkin in my right hand, turned towards me as it carefully directs the steering wheel with the other hand. Jeremy's car smells like strawberries and American Spirits. I am in the middle of nowhere. It's almost 8 o'clock and I'm an hour late. I wasn't going to go.  
Regina Spekor quietly plays in the stereo, and I take a left. It's not toally dark outside, and the trees are beginning to regain their leaves above me. It is damp outside and the clouds are still visible in the dusky sky. I approach the gate. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to honk, or get out and go up to the speaker, but it just opens, and I drive up the long private driveway and I decide that he is definitely rich. When I reach the house, cars flood the driveway, which extended into a skate ramp. People entered and exited the massive front entrance. The house is extraordinarily beautiful, stone and calm, except for what occurs inside of it's mass. I pull next to a Volvo. I'm in a 97 Honda. I feel small, and out of place.  
I'm not wearing designer, because it's all I know. Instead I'm wearing black skinnies and a large v-neck with some Japanese flower print on it. My black cardigan is not fighting the cold the same way my Prada Coat would, but it tries. I walk towards the entrance as a guy flies outward on a skateboard, hitting a rock and tumbling into the driveway. I laugh and I enter the house. The entrance is filled with drunk girls holding cheap beer, laughing and kissing in front of horny guys. I walk further into the house to find a trashed dining room on my left, and a packed living room on my right. Stairs lead down to an even more jammed kitchen area. I look around for a familiar face. I see none. I walk through the dining room and the living, and after an unsuccessful search I bolt down the stairs into a massive crowd dancing to The Sounds blaring through huge speakers. People hold beer in plastic red cups and their body heat engulfs me as I push past to the kitchen. A blond man asks if I want a beer and I nod.  
"I'm Dunn," he yells over the music, and hands me a plastic red cup.  
"I'm Andy!" I scream back, and we both laugh.  
"Are you meeting anyone?"  
"Um, I don't know! Bam invited me!"  
He smiles and points behind me, "Outside!"  
I notice the door to my right and I nod, thanking him. I walk out to a torch lit backyard, and despite all of the racy dancing and the crazy conversations, the whole setting appeared to be romantic. Everything seemed so strategically placed, the lighting, the tables. It was almost like a wedding reception. I wonder if Bam did it himself.  
I walk more and more out onto the lawn, taking in the sights. A garden surrounded me, and to the right a path led up to what I figured was a pool. A deck was overhead, and people leaned on the railings and kissed. And I miss feeling embrace. I sip my beer, and it tastes crisp and bitter. That good, beer bitter. I'm surprised. I feel a hand brush my arm and I turn to see Bam with his wicked smile.

"Didn't think you'd come," he says casually.  
"Oh, you know, something to do," I say, builing confidence.  
"Well, I'm glad you came. Are you enjoying yourself?"  
"I just got here. It's set up great, did you do it?" I ask, hopefully.  
"I did. Millionaires can do things themselves. My friend and interior designer, Seth helped, I must admit. The layout was my idea," he informs me, and takes a sip of his beer.

"You're like Gatsby," I tease.  
"I am Gatsby," he says in a way that falls so sexy, I want to get closer to him. Instead, I laugh. He smiles at me and looks around as if to be thinking.

"Would you like to go on a walk?"  
"Sure," I say willingly. He smiles.  
"First, let me get you a _real _beer," he says, turning back to the house. I wait calmly out in the lawn watching the people dance outside further up near the house. The song changes and I turn to look out to the large land he owned. I wanted to see every inch, it was so beautiful here. I stare for a few minutes when I hear feet behind me.  
'Okay, here," Bam says, handing me a bottle. The sent is familiar, almost too familiar. I take a sip, and I am taken back in surprise.  
"Lapin Kulta," I say, smiling.  
"What? You drink Finnish beer?" he asks.  
"I have had Lapin Kulta once. My brother brought it back from Finland when he went a few years ago. I love it," I say, looking at him.  
"Well you know good beer," he says, "I have it imported and delivered every month. I love most European made beer."  
I smile, "Shall we?" I say taking a step out towards the empty lawn.

"Yes, we shall," he says. And we continue into the dark.  
We have gotten a couple of yards away until another word is spoken. It is him first. Before hand the whole time we just walked, taking glances at each other, and smiling.  
"So, Andy, where are you from?" Bam asks.  
"I was born in Atlanta, Georgia I say, but I was raised in Bridgeport. You?"  
"West Chester all of my life."  
When he says this I find it funny how you'll meet someone who you've been 30 minutes away from all of your life. I smile to myself and look up at him.  
"So what's the rest of your story?" He asks, and takes a sip from his bottle.  
"It's kind of in this in-the-process thing. I don't really know. It's all crazy," I say, pushing my hair back. He eyes me, and turns towards me.  
Bam is close to 5'9" and he towers over me. He is warm and he smells like fire and clean cotton. He wants to know, but I'm not telling him everything.  
"I just quit the job I've worked everything for for all of my life about a month ago, moved here from New York City, and I'm just coastin'," I say, and I sip my beer, looking at him straight in the eyes.  
"Sounds daring," he remarks moving closer into me.  
"Or stupid," I fight back. He gives that sexy half smile thing he does and moves away from me. As he walks further into the unknown area of his yard he sways, drinking from his bottle. His head turns back to me, motioning for me to follow him. My nerves set in, and I stride behind him, watching his figure closely against the moonlight. We walk together for a while, and reach the woods, which were torch-lit and a few people sat around drinking beer. A treehouse was a few yards behind them. Bam grabs my arm and we start pacing towards it. We walk up the steps into a warm room, with a couch and a pool table. There is music playing low. He sets his beer on a small table next to the couch and leans himself against the pool table.  
"This is something we're tearing down in a few weeks. I have a better layout for our next season of Viva La Bam. This one is getting old," he says, tracing his fingers on the pool table liner.

I look at him, and I smile, "I like it. It has character."  
He laughs, "Character, huh?"  
"Yeah, it's age gives it character."  
We look at each other for a minute and he jumps off of the pool table, "You, uh, wanna head back up or something?"  
"Nah, it's quiet here," I say. I sit my beer on the small table next to his, and I sit on the couch, scanning the tree house in detail. I notice stains on the carpet, and old flyers pinned to the walls. People had carved their names into the wood of the pool table. I notice 'Jenn 3's Bam.' And my lips purse. I remember that on some old bench in Panama City there is a 'Steven & Andrea 03''. It is carved right next to 'Sid & Nancy'. Steven hated this, but I loved it, whether it really was Sid and Nancy or not. And then for some reason I think about how I could have been Andrea Hardin, wife of one of the biggest stock brokers in New York. I think about how I would still be first assistant for one of the most famous fashion photographers in the world. I think about all of this, and I realize how meaningless it has become. The carving in the bench is just two names now.  
I look up to find Bam looking at me, his eyebrows pushed together in worry.  
"You look like you're deep in thought," he says.  
"I always do that. I drift off into space," I laugh and he smiles. I decide not to ask him about Jenn, because it is a stupid idea. I decide instead to get up and ask him to dance. He laughs and shakes his head when I ask him.  
"I can't dance," he says.  
"Oh come on! Everyone says that, and have you noticed that they all do pretty well?" I state, taking his hand in mine. He is still laughing. I pull him into the middle of the room and bring his arms around my back and I put my arms around his neck. We sway side to side for a few minutes. I felt so at home that it strikes me as pleasant and wonderful when he held a tighter grip onto me. The music changes then to a much more fast paced The Dandy Warhols, 'We Used to Be Friends'. I unraveled from his embrace and held his hand pulling myself into him. We laugh and he spins me fast as I push myself outward.

I wake up to an unfamiliar ceiling, in an unfamiliar bed. I shoot up from the comfy mattress and evaluate my surroundings. There is a dresser to my left, along with a chair. To my right is a mirror and a door, and from it is the sound of a shower. I look down to find myself in my T-shirt, but not my pants. Sweatpants. Not my sweatpants.  
_**Shit. I put out. I PUT OUT. Oh you idiot. How can you have sex with a guy what you don't even know all that well? Chill out, you don't even know if you did. Well you are in HIS BED, in HIS ROOM, in HIS SWEATPANTS. Shit, you're right. Okay well lets just be calm and look for my pants, and then we will leave just like that. Just like that? Yep just like-  
**_ The shower turns off. My eyes widen as I hear him moving around in there. I get up out of the bed and walk over to the window above the chair. I'm biting my thumbnail hard.  
"Hey, you're up!" says Bam from behind me. I turn to him. He is in a towel, holding a toothbrush in his hand. He begins brushing his teeth as I scan his body.

_**You're forgiven. If you had sex with…THAT…you're forgiven. I mean just look at him! Look at that chest. And those tattoos! Oh girl, you've always had a thing for tattoos. And there is a tattoo sticking out from the towel which means- Shut up. Just shut up. All I'm saying is- **_  
"Hey, good morning," I say.  
"Gool morging," he says through toothpaste. I began rocking with my foot, and my arms are crossed. I feel the question rising.

"Did we..uh,"  
He stops brushing his teeth.  
"Did we have sex?" I ask and I look down.  
"Whaf? Noolg," he says. I look at him, raising an eyebrow. He looks at his toothbrush, "Hol gone." He walks into the bathroom and I hear him spit. The faucet turns on and I hear him spit again. He turns the water off and walks out of the bathroom.  
"No, you fell asleep in the tree house," He says, wiping his face with another towel.  
I sigh, a wave of relief comes over me, followed by disappointment.

_**Worse, you fell asleep. You didn't put out, you fell asleep. Ha! What an idiot.**_

"Oh," I say, and I laugh. He smiles.  
"We danced, and then we fell. And then we sat on the floor and talked for a while," He said, leaning against the wall.  
"About what?" I ask.  
"Your past job, and what I do," he replies, "You don't remember?"  
"No, it's weird," I say.  
"Well anyways, I gave you a piggy back ride up to the house, and I carried you up the stairs, and you asked if I had any shorts you could wear. That is, if you're wondering how you wound up in my sweatpants," He says.  
"You piggy backed me that far? God bless you," I say, laughing. Bam laughs and walks to the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a shirt.  
"Well, I'm gonna change and head downstairs. My mom, April is over here. Probably cleanin and some shit. Making food, you know. You're welcome to stay."  
"Maybe for a while," I say. Bam turns to the bathroom and shuts the door. I glance at the clock. 11. It's Sunday. I don't work Sundays. I should call Jeremy. Jeremy works Sundays. Shit. I walk out of the bedroom, which is right in the entrance. Surprisingly, no cups litter the floor and there is no puke. I cross my arms and walk towards the stairs and head towards the kitchen. A blond woman is cooking eggs. I smell toast and bacon. 'Chad' and Pig are sitting at the middle counter table of the kitchen. I almost turn around but Bam brushes past me and motions for me to follow him.  
"Hey Ape, this is Andy," He points to me. The blond woman smiles.  
"Hey, do you want anything?" She asks. I shake my head.  
"Oh you need to eat. Coffee too?"  
"Please," I say.  
"Chad, Andy. Novak, Andy," Bam introduces.  
"Hi," I say.  
"Man, that's bullshit. I didn't even get pussy last night," Pig says. April smacks him with her oven mit.  
"I didn't either," Bam says. I look at him, admiring the fact that he defended me. Novak looks at him and then looks at me. He pauses.  
"Hey you work at Rex's," he says. I nod.  
"Hey, man I'm sorry. I'm a little forward," he apologizes.

"It's fine," I say, holding back my other planned comment. Novak nods and turns back to his tabloid.  
"Where's Dunn at?" Bam asks, taking a piece of Novak's toast.  
"Duffers II," Chad says.  
"At 11 in the morning?" he states through toast. Chad nods.  
"Jesus Christ," Bam says, taking another bite of toast.  
"He's not drinkin', he just hates good homemade cooking," says April, who slides a plate to me.  
"Well we start filming in a week and I don't want that son-of-a-bitch wasted off his ass," he continues, and takes a sip of Novak's orange juice.  
"Damn it, Bam," Novak curses. I take a seat next to Chad and start eating.  
"Well, what are we going to do today?" Chad asks.  
"Hey, you guys know that Seth is fuckin' bringing a Goddamn firehose over here?" a voice asks from the stairs. I turn to see a dirty blond guy holding up a phone. Bam takes it.  
"Seth? Yeah, Raab just told me. Really? That's fucking awesome. Okay, see you in 10," Bam hangs up and tosses the phone to 'Raab'.  
"Call Rake and tell him to bring ove some of those thick crash test suits. I've got the best fucking idea," Bam says to Raab.  
"Can you at least eat first and do stupid shit later?" April asks impatiently.  
"Stupid shit can't wait, Ape!" He yells, and flies out of the side door.


	4. Chapter 4

Soon within the hour after April had cooked me breakfast and had given me some of the sweetest coffee I had ever had, bodies were slamming against the side of the house. I watched with quick nerves as Bam would turn on the hose and one of his minions would be sprayed back against the wall. There were five of them, all zipped up in crash test suits and faces hidden in motorcycle helmets. Each one had acquired their own personal injury from the wall. Bam would shout, 'Go!' and one would run out in front of the hose. The pressure from the hose was easily heard through a loud blast. Water flooded out from the opening of the hose and Bam and Seth would lean back from the power.  
April stood behind me shaking her head, "They are going to get themselves killed, I swear to God," she says, her face hidden behind her oven mitt.

The look on Bam's face is priceless, to say the least. It reminds me of how I felt on Christmas when I opened another present with the eagerness growing inside of me. I remember now that I was never disappointed at Christmas. It was always a good time. And then it occurs to me that everyday with Bam is likely this exciting and crazy. No planned dinner dates, no traditions. And I felt free. Something more than wonder grew inside of me as to what he would do next. And it did surprise me. He and Seth tilted the hose upward and called 'Rake' and 'Dico' over to hold it upward.  
Bam ran towards me and carried me under the sky, water showered down on us like a rainstorm. He spun me around endlessly as I caught glimpses of Rake and Dico struggling to hold the hose upward. My arms gripped tightly around Bam's neck.  
At this moment I remember dancing in the rain with Harry, and how he would pick me up by the arms and swing me around in the middle of the street. I remember not feeling this incredible since then. Having no worries, no deadlines, no desire to grow up or let time keep going in it's endless tick. I wanted Bam to spin me forever. Time to freeze. I looked at him through my eyes, water beating down on my skin like snowflakes. He leans towards meand lets go of my legs, letting them drop to the ground, and at the same time hugging me tightly with his arms to I wouldn't lose balance. As he pulled me towards him, it hit me that I had never been kissed in the rain..or under a fire hose, whichever you prefer. And for these two seconds, the world stopped being so hectic and time didn't exist.  
His lips hit mine with electric fire. A swell of waves crashed inside of me and rose again with vibrating electricity and warmth. Our lips entwined with eagerness. And I felt infinite.

"Have you ever been in love?" I ask my Aunt Devina. She is stripping string beans and throwing them into the strainer. The corner of her mouth tugs a smile and she looks at me, resting her hands on the counter, "Just once." She says.  
"What was it like?" I ask, tossing a string bean into her pile.  
"Well, it's a funny thing because I was with so many men that I thought I loved. And then one day you find this particular someone who makes you realize that you were never in love with anyone else in the first place," She pauses and looks down as if to think of his face, "And it feels like time just stops."

We walk inside of the house, laughing and soaking wet, Bam and I last. I feel bad because Dico has blisters on his hands from holding up the hose. Bam glances at me and bites his lip. We walk upstairs, leaving everyone else inside of the kitchen. When we reach the top of the stairs, I turn to him. I turn to him because I have so much to say. But I decide that now is not the time.  
"Can I take a shower?" I ask, disappointed with the way it sounds. As if I wanted to leave.  
He looks disappointed, "Sure. Um, I'll get you a towel."  
I stand there shivering for a moment when he runs back up the steps and hands me a soft white one. It is large and thick. I snuggle into it.  
"Hot is on right, cold left. The way it works best is if you turn hot all the way up and cold just a little bit," he says, holding on to the railing.  
"Okay. Thank you, and Bam?"  
He turns back towards me, "Yeah?"  
I just smile and shake my head and he smiles too. He nods and continues downstairs. I decide he read my mind enough to understand that I was perhaps in heaven, and perhaps he knows he brought me there.

I was wearing a light purple dress, and I was holding a basket filled with white rose petals. My Mother stood on a stool as a woman puffed out her dress.  
I never thought I'd see my Mom in a wedding dress. I saw pictures of her and Harry's wedding, and the dress she wore then was much more elegant and beautiful. It looked just fine in pictures, I never wanted to see it in real life, especially not her in a new one. I grip the basket in my hand tightly and my cousin Littia is holding one too.  
"You ready?" my Mom asks me, tucking her hair into her veil.  
I nod, but I'm lying. I'm not ready for her to not be my Dad's girl anymore. I look over at Jeremy who is holding a pillow with two gold banded rings sitting in the middle. He doesn't have an expression on his face. I look at my Mother and she's laughing with the women adjusting her dress. Her eyebrows are raised and she is smiling. But I don't hear anything. I don't hear anything at all.

The water shuts off as I turn the nob to the right. I'm still warm from the heat of the shower. I dry off and get dressed. It's 3 in the afternoon. I have to go home because Michelle is moving in with Jeremy today. I have to go home because I can't stay there much longer. My brother has a life too, and I'm not his first priority anymore.  
I step out and change into my clothes. I leave my number on a piece of paper I tuck into the wood frame of his dresser mirror.  
After saying goodbye to everyone, I get into my car and drive back to the small house in the middle of town to be greeted by a pissed off Michelle tapping her foot on the front porch because my brother isn't home from work yet. She is locked out. I try to hold back my laughter. She isn't wearing her self-bought engagement ring. She can't because that's a secret. There is a lot of boxes surrounding her.

Bam didn't call for the next week or the week after. I was starting to think that the party never happened, and I had imagined him kissing me like I was a princess under the rain, or the fire hose –whichever you prefer. Until I had a missed call that Friday, I had decided that it really was all something I made up to cope with my early-life crisis or meltdown –whichever you prefer. I call my voicemail.

"_Hey Andy, It's Bam. Sorry I haven't called, I just found your number yesterday on my mirror. Ha-Ha. I don't have that much of an attention span to notice things like that. We've been filming and shit, but I'm not doing anything tomorrow, and I was wondering if you would like to go somewhere. I mean it's not a date or anything. No I lied, it is. Yeah it is. I sound like a fucking idiot. Call me back."  
_

I smile so wide that my teeth show. I'm dialing before I realize I'm dialing. The phone rings. Once. Twice.  
"Hello?"  
"Hey Bam."  
"Andy, hey!"  
"Yeah I just got your voicemail."  
"Oh, you got that," his voice sounds annoyed. I try not to laugh.  
"Yeah, so what are you planning to do?"  
"I never have plans, but I was just thinking I'd pick you up and we could go wherever," he says in a tone with tease.  
"Sure, 7 sound good?"  
"I was thinking more along the lines of 4, you know, catch the daylight," he negotiates.  
"Yeah I get off at 2, so that will work," I say thinking about how all my overtime pays off.  
"Great, see you then?"  
"Sure."

"Bye Andy."  
"Bye Bam."

It's 3:30 and I'm ready. Usually I almost make men wait because I'm so torn as to what to wear and how to do my hair. With Bam though it felt different from minute 1. I never would have to work to impress him. I was still looking for my lace-up rip off Vans I bought from Wal Mart. $5.  
"What in the hell?" Jeremy says walking into the spare room holding a bowl of cereal.  
"I have a date," I yell throwing my old designer clothes across the room to find my $5 Wal Mart Shoes at the bottom of the pile. I slide one on my left foot, and the other on my right.  
"What? With who?"  
"Bam."  
Jeremy spits out his milk and chokes for a minute. He beats his fist against his chest as I tie up my shoes.

"Bam Margera?" he asks, flabbergasted.  
"Mhmm," I mutter. He looks at me for a minute and starts to shake his finger, "You're bullshitting me. I don't believe a word of it."  
"Okay, Jeremy. Where's Michelle at?" I ask, changing the subject.  
"Workin'. Don't change the subject.," he remarks, still shaking his finger. I realize that this is my first opportune moment to tell him about her shenanigans on being Mrs. Hull.  
"You know she's walking around this town claiming to be your fiancé?" I say, looking up at him.  
He stares at me for a moment and looks down at his cereal, "Fuck."  
"Yep," I say. I'm proud that the expression I imagined was the exact one he put off.  
"Fuck," he repeats, "You wait until after I let her move in to tell me this?"  
"You're never around!" I reply intently.  
"Damn it. Well," he says twirling his spoon in his bowl, "Another one bites the dust."  
I laugh and grab my black cardigan.  
"You're wearing black jeans and shitty keds on a date? Last time I checked you're a high heels girl," he says.  
"Again, you haven't been around much. I'm changing."  
"In that case, can I sell all of your designer shit to buy a new house?"  
I laugh, "Or pay off your debt," I suggest. He flicks me off.  
"Nah not right now, I'm still figuring out what to do with it."  
The doorbell rings and both Jeremy's head and mine lift up. He runs before me, slamming into the front door. Milk swishes to the side of his bowl. The door swings open and Jeremy's mouth opens wide. He looks back and me and I smile.  
"Hey, uh, is Andy here?" I hear Bam's voice and I smile at Jeremy's expression.  
"Uh yeah, uh Andy," he starts, but I'm already kissing him on the cheek.  
"Bye Jer," I say, and I walk out of the door with Bam.  
Bam looks at me oddly as we walk towards the red Hummer I saw pull into Rex's just two weeks before.  
"My brother, Jeremy," I say with reassurance. Bam gives and 'Oh' and laughs. I smile as he opens my door and helps me inside. His car smells like Febreeze and pine. Obviously he had tried to cover something up. The drivers side open and he pulls himself inside.  
"Clean today?" I ask like a smartass. He laughs.  
"Yeah during filming someone spilled a bunch of hot wings in here and puked," He replies, starting the car. I make an 'ew' face.

We drive for a while, and it's sunny outside. For the first time in a few months it is truly sunny in West Chester. It's warm and dry, and there is no need for my cardigan. The leaves are greening on the trees, and their thickness is becoming more prominent and common. There is the sweet smell of flowers and warm spring air. A perfect day. Temperature is about 75 degrees with fair wind. A finnish rock band plays low on Bam's stereo and his windows are down.  
The wind feels good on my face, and my hair blows backwards as the wind takes it's fingers through my hair, twirling it and combing it into a rat's nest.  
Soon we're both singing along to 'Atomic Love' by The Beatsteaks and I'm dancing in my seat, making us both whirl with laughter. I think about my drives with Steven in a taxi to our arranged planned-two-days-before dinner date, or our reserved seats to fashion week. We'd talk quietly about how our day was and how good the food was at where ever we were going. He would sometimes hold my hand and tell me that he had a surprise for me when we would get back home. Sometimes it was a new Prada bag, or a new overcoat by Betsey Johnson. And just one time it was a $20,000 six diamond ring by Neil Lane. That surprise stings my throat and makes my head hurt. How he covered my eyes and led me into the living room area, sat me on the $30,000 white leather couch. And he uncovered my eyes and there were two champagne glasses and roses. I hated roses.  
He picks up a champagne glass and hands me one and says, "Here's to us."

I look at Bam as I'm singing and he's smiling with words coming from his mouth, his eyes on the road. And suddenly I don't hear the music, or my voice trying to keep up, I just hear his.

"_This is atomic love, ahhh ahhh ahh."_  
And I feel a swell of waves inside of me again. The undertow is great and strong. I'm still singing, but barely. And then the song is over because I stop hearing his voice, he's just laughing and I hear myself laughing, and all the sound comes back into tune.  
We pull over on the side of the road and he starts turning the key, trying to start it. It was starting, he just didn't turn the key the whole way.  
"Oh no," he says in a sort of cartoony way, "the car won't start." He winks at me and I smile.  
"Oh no," I play along, "What are we going to do?"  
"Maybe we should walk up the road and see if we can get some help," he says, and he begins getting out of the car. I'm already laughing and he's telling me to shh or I'll ruin it. I step out of the Hummer and shut me door, running to catch up with his pace.

We must of walked a mile or two before we changed any direction. We were in the middle of nowhere. He grabs my hand and starts running into the middle of a huge field. The grass was thick and short under us, and he guided me out into the middle, spinning around and grabbing me, falling backwards. He hit the soft ground, me on top of him. He started kissing me in a hard, passionate sort of way. My fingers locked into his hair, as his held my face. We rolled until he was on top of me. Out of breath and laughing, we just stayed this way for a while. Looking at each other.  
Soon he sat up and pulled two Lapin Kulta bottles from the side pocket of his jacket and tossed me one. He has to twist the cap off for me. And I was so happy it wasn't champagne.  
"I know exactly what you're doing," I played.  
"Oh really?" he asks, teasingly.  
"You're gonna get me drunk and seduce me."  
"Damn it. How did you know?" he laughs. We laugh at this for a while and he says, "No, really I only brought two bottles. It'd be a little crazy if I just keep pulling them out of my pockets like I'm fucking Houdini."  
I laugh hard at this one and I snuggle into his chest. He held himself up with his hand.  
"So, I've met your brother, so who are your parents."  
"Harry and my Mom. She's re-married to a guy named Phil."  
He laughs, "My Dad's name is Phil."  
"Please tell me his last name isn't Abreson," I ask seriously. There were so many things about Phil I didn't know. So I was being serious.  
"Nah, It's Margera," he laughs, "So you call your Dad by his first name?"  
"Yeah, it suits him better, my Mom is just Mom though. Her name is Annie," I say taking a sip of my beer. It was still pretty cold. I'm surprised by this.  
"Yeah I call my parents by their first names. Jess is my brother," he remarks.  
"I figured, you both look alike," I say staring up at the sky. It was starting to get dark and I began to think we might not find our way back. This thought didn't bother me, I wanted to stay here as long as I possibly could.

"So you didn't plan any of this?" I ask.  
"Nah, I just brought the beer and developed my plan as we drove," he says. He starts laughing as if he was getting enjoyment out of a private joke.  
"What?" I ask, curious.  
"Nah nothing, just thinking."  
"No, what?" I ask smiling.  
"It's not important," he says, caressing my face with his free hand. He leans into me before I can ask him again and he nuzzles into the nape of my neck. I feel his lips touch my cold skin and I shiver. He kisses up my neck, my cheek and reaches my lips where he puckers out his lips so obviously I do mine and lean in. He pulls away, so I try again. He pulls away. I laugh and playfully smack him, and he leans in and kisses me. He kisses me good. And this one hits me so hard, I put down my bottle and wrap my arms around his neck. I hear him shuffle to set down his, and his hands push against my sides, and find their way to my back. He pushes me softly into the ground. He backs up and rests his head against his elbow, looking down at me. My heart is racing its way out of my chest.  
"You're really pretty," he says, "And when you sleep, too."  
I blush, "You are very pretty as well." It sounds corny but I don't care. It's honest and to the point. And we wait as the sun peeks its final smile over the horizon.

'So where are you going to live?" he asks as we lay under the stars. Hours must have passed as we talked about random pointless facts about our lives, or just staring at each other. The stars couldn't of been prettier than him that night. Nothing could have been.  
"I don't know. Michelle just moved in. But you know how I told you about his commitment phobia and how she's pretending to be his fiancé? Well, he knows about it, so I don't know how much longer she'll live there. But I just don't want to invade his life anymore, he has stuff he needs to do. I'm just getting in the way anyways," I explain quickly and grab a tighter hold on Bam's hand. We were quiet for a minute, and he started to say something, but stopped. I look at him and he looks like he is stuck on a thought.  
"Well," he says, "I have a spare room if you want."  
I sit up, "No, I didn't mean for it to sound like I asked you. I mean I know you have a lot of stuff going on…"  
"No it didn't sound like that," he says, stopping me, "I'm asking you. I know it's a little…forward but if you need somewhere to stay, you know."  
I didn't know what to say. I only had been on two dates with him, well one formal date. We didn't know a lot about each other.  
_**He's being nice, he's not trying to get into your pants you fucking idiot. Well still, It's a very quick move. A very quick move. And you moved in with Steven way to quick and you had dated him for a year. Yeah but this is different I don't have anywhere to stay. No, you have Harry, and you will always have Harry. Bam could just disappear and you'd have to move all over again, and you'd be all sad. Harry lives to far away from Rex's. GET A NEW JOB THEN! No I like working at Rex's. You're impossible, you're just fighting against yourself because you want to prove that this could be different like you swore to yourself about Steven. I mean go ahead, go ahead and live with Bam after two weeks of knowing him. Wait no, two days really. Go ahead. We're waiting.**_

"Well, really Bam that's nice. I don't want to impose and I don't know you very well."  
"You're not imposing," he assures me, "and we could get to know each other more."  
Bam had a look on his face that felt so real and honest. Steven had a forceful look, as I remember. Bam half smiles at me. That wicked, teasing half smile.  
"Okay. Well, when would be a good time for me to move in?" I ask.  
_**Here we go.**_  
"Whenever," he says, smiling. And I all but lost feeling in my legs.


	5. Chapter 5

"You're not supposed to drag the thing ya ass," Bam yelled at Dico. Both Dico and Raab struggled to lift the thick queen sized mattress through the bedroom door. It'd had been two weeks since my date with Bam in the field, and since then there have been about 5 more dates, and none of them were at a restaurant. One involved paint balloons, the other involved getting pulled over, just because I told him he drove too slow. What's so funny about this is that Bam didn't care, he just paid the ticket. He often jokes that I get him into trouble, discovering this after our fourth date when we made 6 pans of cake layers, ended up in a food fight, and April bitched him out about destroying the kitchen. On our fifth date we went to the King Of Prussia mall and pulled down the pants of all the models at Old Navy. Bam and I are no longer allowed inside of the store for 'as long as we live'.

I could have fun with Bam without effort or planning. We were like little six year olds together with our silly jokes and our pranks. I could just float. And that's what I had been doing the past two weeks. He even helped me pack, which also turned into a silly war. Clothes were thrown everywhere, and it took us longer than planned to get my stuff together. We packed all of my designer stuff in separate boxes because I was dropping them by the Salvation Army on the way home. Everything with the exception of my black, Christain Louboutin pumps. Those, I would refuse. Harry bought them for me from Saks one Christmas. I don't know how he knew I wanted them. Steven swore he didn't tell him anything. Sometimes I think Harry just reads my mind.  
Speaking of Harry, he almost shit his pants when I told him I was moving in with Bam. I got around this by saying we were just friends. He retaliated by calling my Mother. She's called me 500 times since and I refuse to talk to her. I haven't talked to her in almost a full year and I don't care about this at all.

I watch as Raab shoves the end of the mattress into my room with all of his might, pushing Dico entirely over. Raab and I have become buddies by now, and Dico calls me Andy Girl. Dunn is my favorite. During the paint balloon fight, he was on my team and we make great teammates. We won with Raab against Bam, Dico and Rake.  
"Ow! Fuck!" Dico screams under the mattress, "Raab you asshole."  
Raab laughs hysterically and makes his way into the room, pulling the mattress off of Dico. Dico shoves him.  
"Oh come on boys, play nice." I tease, holding my box of books, "Now move, this box is heavy."  
Dico and Raab make way for me and I set the box on the hardwood floor. The room is painted dark green because Slayer stayed here only two nights before, and the boys threw a huge party. I had to work, lucky me. I however; got the chance to dress up in a huge dress designed from the 1800's when they reenacted the Civil War. Bam pretended to be a Conservative commander coming home from battle, and I was his wife. I had to 'mend' his wounds. In other words, I had to kiss where ever he pointed. Luckily he didn't try to pull a funny one during that little storyline.  
"Why did you have to be a pain in the ass and want your own mattress?" Bam asks, kissing my cheek. He sets down a box labeled 'Clothes'.  
"Because I'm cute," I say and I push past him to get another box. A guy named 'Glomb' came over that day, because he was nice enough to build me a bed frame. He and Dunn set up my bed as I brought up a few more boxes. The old mattress that was inside of my room sat propped up against the stair railing. I smile as I approach April.  
"You want something to drink sweetie?" She asks from behind her magazine. I tell her no thanks and I pick up the box labeled, 'Camera Equip.' I did this on purpose, hell no was I going to let anyone else handle this box.

I had my bed made and most of my clothes put up before I decided to call it a night. I trotted downstairs to grab a glass of water. The boys all sat around in a circle in front of the fireplace playing some sick-twisted version of a card game. Next to Dico was 4 glasses, two empty of some disgustingly mixed smoothie.  
"Ha! You lose Rake!" Bam screams excitedly, "Straight fucking A's!"  
I watch Rake's face fall as Dico hands him a smoothie.  
"Here's you eggy pickle strawberry-fart vinegar deluxe!" Dico announces with enjoyment. I turn my head as I hear gagging. I stride to the kitchen and ask Phil where the glasses are. Phil and I had only met two times before, but I already liked him. He was so easy to talk to and be yourself around. I smile and nod a thanks to him and fill up my glass in the sink  
"We have some of that purified shit if you want that instead," Phil says behind his newspaper. I shake my head but thank him anyways. I return to my room and set the water on my night stand. It's warm in my new room and the dark walls contrast well with my black framed photographs hanging on the wall. Steven had sent them later in the mail. They were just pictures of New York City, fashion week and my family. I thoroughly enjoyed photography. My first camera was a cheap instant film Harry had gotten for me at a flea market for $4. I remember crying when it ran out.  
I snuggled myself under the covers. It was 9:30. My eyes tugged at me as I tried to keep them open enough to read a bit of Chuck Palahniuk under my lamp light. There was a soft knock at my door, and I said for whomever to come in.  
"Hey," Bam says sitting next to me, propping his feet up on the bed, "You like it?" he asks excitedly.  
"Yeah," I reply with a yawn, "I'm just so tired and I have to go to work at 8 tomorrow."  
He nods and pulls me into his chest, "I understand, long hours."  
"Mhmm," I nod and bury my head into him, closing my eyes.  
For some reason at this moment I tired to remember lying in bed with Steven, but I couldn't. Nothing was there. I jut remember falling asleep alone in the silk sheets feeling tired and useless. Steven's face was even a blur in my memory. Nothing was profound, or in sharp contrast. I had nothing. And I realized at this moment that Steven was gone. Not physically but that fact that I had subconsciously blocked him out. Your mind will do funny things through life changing areas, or heartbreak. Your mind will sneak behind your back and flush everything out like it never existed in the first place. Like you lived all alone in _The Metropolis_. It was like all those rides to fashion week were something you did for yourself. And in retrospect, maybe they were. Maybe all of the dinner dates were something you did for yourself. Like he wasn't even there.  
I wrapped my arm around the warm, sweet human being I lay next to, just to make sure he was real too. And he was. His chest elevated underneath my arm, and collapsed. His breathing was quiet in the lamp lit room. His heart making even bump bumps.

"Do you think time really does stop when this happens, Aunt Devina?" I ask, holding a string bean in my hand. She looks up and strips another and carelessly tosses it in the strainer. She sighs, pushing her hair back."Maybe it does." She says to me, "Maybe time doesn't really exist between two people who love each other."  
"Time not existing?" I ask more to myself than her.  
"I know it's hard to imagine it now, but one day you will know what I'm talking about. I promise."  
And she smiles.

"Bam?" I ask to the air, making sure he was still there.  
"Uh..uh huh?" I hear a mumble next to me in the dark. The lamp was off, and I hear crickets outside. I feel a figure under the covers next to me. It is warm.  
"Just checking," I say and I snuggle into him.

"Well when did all of this happen?" I ask into the phone, slicing the tomato on the wood board.  
"Just a few days ago," I hear my brother say, "She went crazy when I told her I didn't want to marry her. It took a lot of guts. She threw a chair at me."  
"A chair?" I ask. Bam looks up at me from behind his skate magazine with an eyebrow raised. I mouth 'Jeremy has girl trouble' and he nods, looking back down.  
"Yeah a fucking chair. That bitch. But some really hot chick walked into Hot Topic today when I was on break going to go see Lena. DAMN. I got her number."  
"That sounds just like you Jeremy, not even sad about the last one?" I grab another tomato.  
"Nah, that was nothing. So everything is working out over there?" He is eating something.  
"Mhmm, everything is great." I say, and Bam smiles.  
"Oh Mom called me raisin some hell about you."  
"What?"  
"Mom called."  
"What did she want?" I ask, and I stop slicing the tomato.  
"For you to swing by her house and _talk_," He says, added emphasis to talk.  
"I have no reason to talk to her. If she wants to talk to me she can sit her ass in her BMW and drive down here."  
"Well she thinks you're stupid for saying no to Steven," Jeremy says behind chips. Bam's head pops up again, and he eyes me. He heard the name.  
"How does she know about that?" I ask re-positioning the tomato.  
"Harry."  
I watch as Bam stands up and grabs an apple and leans himself against the kitchen counter. He is staring at me.  
"Well I have to go, if she calls tell her what I said," Jeremy mumbles something and an 'I love you sis'.  
"Yeah, okay, I love you too. Bye." I turn off the phone and continue slicing the tomato. April want sto make some big thing of spaghetti tonight, and she wants the sauce made from scratch, so I volunteered to slice her some tomatoes. Then the question pops from my left side, which I was expecting.  
"Who's Steven?" I hear Bam ask. He is chewing on an apple chunk. I widen my eyes, but I don't look up to see his face.  
"Hmm?" I ask sliding the slices into the bowl with the rest of the other 15 something tomatoes.  
"Who's Steven?"  
"Just this guy."  
"What did you say no to him about?" Bam asks and bites another chunk of apple.  
"Nosy today, are we?" I say in a bitchy sort of tone. There is silence and I look up at him. He holds apple in the left side of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders, taking another bite. I knew I had to tell him sometime.  
"My ex-boyfriend," I say, exasperatedly. Bam nods his head and chews. He walks over to me and sets his hand on the side of my hip, leaning into me from behind. His head is on my shoulder.  
"Now why was that so hard to say?" He asks, and whips himself around, sitting on the counter. He raises his eyebrows and takes another bite out of his apple. I shrug and grab another tomato.  
"I bet it has something to do with what you said no to him about," He says, lifting his head. I set down my knife and turn around to wash my hands. I am obviously avoiding the question, but I know Bam will push it until I break. So after I dry my hands, I turn to him, propping myself against the sink.  
"He asked me to marry him and I said no," I say, "It's as simple as that."  
"It's that simple, huh?" he asks, tossing his eaten apple into the trash can. I look at him on the counter. His hands are folded in between his legs. He is only wearing sweatpants and no shirt. It has been an extraordinarily warm April, and the heat was accompanied by very small winds. The air conditioner was pumping it's guts throughout the house, and it brought goose bumps to the surface of my skin. I cross my arms. I smile a little, because he is.  
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," Bam says and he reaches across to touch my face. His fingers are warm and slightly sticky from the apple. He lowers his hand an lets it land in his lap carelessly. He wants me to tell him, he just thinks I won't.  
"Nah, it's okay," I prepare myself, "We dated for about two and a half years and I lived with him in New York. He asked me, and as far as I can remember, I didn't say no, I just ran out of the apartment and had Harry pick me up at the train station. He sent me all of my stuff, I quit my job and, well, I'm here now."  
"The job you worked your whole life for?" Bam asks. I admire the fact that he listens to every word I say, and records it somewhere in his crazy brain. I nod.  
"Yeah I just broke off an engagement with this girl I dated for like 5 years. She trashed my house because I apparently slept with Jessica Simpson," Bam states flatly. I remember Mick telling me something about 6 years, but I take Bam's word for it. Mick drinks a lot of that nasty Bud Ice shit.  
"Did you?" I ask.  
"Lets just say that time kind of got carried away when I was with Jenn. I planned on ending it so far back, and then it was like, 'No, not today' and then all of the sudden it's like 2 years went by. I wasn't in love with her for the majority of our relationship. And shit, maybe I never was," he explains, "but I did some thing I shouldn't of done. And I wasn't honest with her in many ways." He stops there and thinks for a minute. Not in the way of finding the words, just reviewing the past, "I guess it just made more sense to walk away."

I nod, and I think maybe Bam won't be honest with me. My stomach takes a full 360 and I return to the cutting board.  
"And hell, you know, her trashing $30,000 of computer equipment among other things made it so much easier for me to tell her it was over," he laughs. I laugh, but it's pushed.

"This all went down right after Christmas," he says, and jumps down to the floor.

He bumps me with his butt, making me stumble to my left. He grabs the knife and begins cutting the tomato. I laugh because he is making awfully jagged slices. The tomato squishes under his fingers.  
"Well aren't you a professional," I tease.  
"Watch it, I'm the one with the knife little girl," he plays back, pointing it at me.

A whole month passes by of filming and late night conversations, but this didn't seem so. I never kept track of time with Bam. It was an element of life that didn't matter with him. We just went with it. He was entering his third season, and things grew more hectic around the house. He offered me the job of being an on-set photographer, and at first it started out as a half time thing, but after a while I was needed more and more, so I ended up quitting at Rex's. It was a difficult thing because I loved working there, and I would miss Mick and I's arguments about beer and other things. I was promised a position whenever I needed it, but I had a feeling I wasn't coming back.

I was also becoming one of the guys around the house, joining in on burping contests and stupid races. Drinking Trivia is perhaps the best thing Dunn has ever invented. You get the question right, you take 1 shot, get it wrong, then it's 2. Every time you get a question wrong, your shots double. There have been a couple of nights when none of us could walk and we'd sit there and laugh so hard we'd cry. Novak always got every question wrong and one night got to 20 shots per missed question. Don't ask me how, but he managed to get the 20 down. All 70 something we're in the toilet by the next morning.

The game came rarely, but greatly. April even joined in one game, but only got to 4 shots on miss because she's a trivial genius. She still got pretty trashed.  
We had a week off before the next season began filming, and we all planned to kick back. Bam instead brought plane tickets home that destined to Mexico. He invited Jeremy and all of his minions, me, his parents, and Harry.  
I had a feeling that this trip would get a little crazy, but so was every day with Bam Margera. It was so be expected.


	6. Chapter 6

I am staring in the mirror in a small cramped lavatory of a Delta Airplane. It smells like Lysol. I am allergic to this.

I press into my face with my fingers, trying to see if I was numb or not. It is wet with water droplets because I splashed water on my face only a few minutes before. My eyes are huge and a deep topaz brown. Dark circles form under them in deep ugly pits. My eyelashes are thick like my father's. Long like my Mother's. No make-up hides my face and I feel pretty. Even with my sleepless eyes, and my creamy white skin, I feel pretty.

The last time I had slept good in the last four months was in Bam's endless wave of duvet and silk. And I remember turning and cuddling into soft feather pillows. He had not slept with me that night out of deep respect and restrain. He did not want me to get the wrong idea.

We had slept in the same bed only once as I have lived with him up to this point. There was no intimate exchange, just a warm body I hugged throughout the night. It was comfort and consistency I hadn't felt in such a long period of time it felt foreign at once, now only wonder.

I hadn't realized how long my hair had gotten, below my chest making its way downward in thick masses of almost black. Layers stacked as short as an inch on top of my head gradually throughout. I put it up into a messy ponytail, my bangs hanging in my face. I take my square-framed black glasses, which had been laid by the sink, and put them on. My face looks the same, just not as pretty.

As I unlock the cheap plastic-thick door, cold recycling air rushes into my face and it stings because my face is still damp. I walk slowly up the aisle, dodging a man and a stewardess. I look to my left for my seat, and then to my right still with surprise that Harry is there, reading a newspaper from home. I was shocked when he agreed to come, but knowing when he explained that he 'had to meet the person I lived with sometime, hmm?'. Next to him is an asleep Jeremy. His gauges went a size up and he had a new tattoo on his shoulder. Another couple of hundred that he could have paid off debt with. Harry watched me as I made my way to my window seat, Bam sitting in the middle. I was in a aisle seat, but I complained about it so Dunn and I switched. Harry didn't like this at first, but he had come to like Dunn a great deal. They talked about cars the minute they met at Bam's house earlier this day. It is 1in the morning. Our flight left at 10:45 on a non-stop way to Mexico. We were in first class until Rake puked everywhere. Don't ask because I will not explain the first thirty minutes of the flight. Trust me, you don't want to know.

Bam is awake, headphones plugged into his ears. He is reading a Charles Bukowski book of poems. He glanes as I shuffle by.  
I sit in my seat, cracking my neck. I cannot sleep in planes. My ears are filled with air and my head hurts, a migraine forming from deep inside of my thick skull. Bam handed me some sleeping pills when I went to the bathroom, I am expecting them to kick in even though he took his before we got onto the plane. Only two bodies are missing from our pack, Novak and Dico. For Novak it is absolutely impossible for him to leave the U.S with all of his warrants, and Dico, well, he didn't want to go. He explained that he hates every place in the country besides West Chester. Once, In great detail he described how much he hated El Paso, Texas.

I sit back, forcing my eyes to close. They are fighting against me, no heaviness keeps them down, but I restrain and squint. Pressure flows into my forehead, and I girt my teeth. My head feels heavy and it pounds in escalating beats. I stay like this for hours maybe, and then my eyes begin to fold themselves naturally into heavy flaps of pressed skin over my eyes. And things go dark.

A man is playing 'Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds' by The Beatles for me on his guitar. He has short brown hair, but his face is blurry and unidentified. I'm laughing because he can't play worth a shit. We are sitting on a soft carpet with candles around us. Every strike of the chord is too low and synchronized with an unfitted mellow-dramatic beat. He is not saying the words correct, a lot of them made up off of the top of his head, but he knows the chorus and he sings very well. His voice is familiar. I'm clapping my hands as he plays so awfully, laughing with tears in my eyes. My eyes being to focus in, in a zoomed fish-eye fashion. His face grows distorted and is enlarged. I squint focusing inwards, and I blink quickly hoping for it to fix itself. It works, and his face sharpens quickly, coming into a clear exposure of a beautiful face. Blue eyes are wide with possibility, his mouth wide as he sings. This is a happy man. This is Steven.

My eyes shoot open to face a small airplane window. It is a light tone of grey outside. I can tell by the clouds and the position of the moon that it is breaking dawn. I look at my phone, and it's 6:03. Bam is sleeping next to me, his head resting on my shoulder, headphones still in his ears. Everyone else is sleeping too, except for April. She is sitting in her seat reading a cook book, sipping on a coffee.

"_Attention passengers, we are approaching your destination of Cancun, Mexico within the next half hour. We ask you to now to return to your seats and put on your seatbelts. Any food, drink or necessity we have accommodated you with will now be picked up. On behalf of pilot Hansen and our staff, we thank you for such a smooth flight, and we welcome you to Cancun."_

Bam awakes from the speaker in a shocked, swift motion. I look around as people adjust themselves into their seats, moving things from side to side. Others arise with stretching arms. Bam is rubbing his eyes, and removes his headphones. He looks up and smiles at me, "Morning pretty girl."  
And I smile.

Cancun is nothing like the pictures or what anyone tells you. It is much more beautiful. I have never seen such clear skies at 6:40 in the morning of my life.  
We arrive at our hotel, _The Ritz-Carlton _around 7. The sky is blue with a blazing, hot sun. I squint as I look towards it behind my sunglasses. It smells like salt water and Sage. We are checked in at 7:30 into 6 separates. One for Bam's parents, one for Harry and Jeremy. Rake and Raab shared, and Dunn and Glomb into the other. Bam and I had our own rooms. All are suits. The floor under us is where April's room is, along with Rake's. The rest of us shared the top floor.

My view is fantastic, and I can see for miles of ocean, and the white sand is bright and beautiful. I can almost feel it between my toes. The pool on ground floor is aligned by blue umbrellas and children circle it in a quick manner. Parents yell at them not to run, and women are already laid out on their chairs, bronzing. My bed is made with white sheets and blue pillows. A Victorian style daybed is by the door leading out onto the balcony. The carpet is soft and warm under my naked feet. I plop onto the bed, and I start screeching like a child, grabbing the well made covers around me, laughing.

We all are by the beach around 9 and the sun is still blazing against us. Raab refuses to listen to me and uses an 8 sun block. I tell him, "No really, you need to use a 40 on the first day at least."  
Both he and I are building a sand castle with Bam using sand pales a nice little girl let us borrow. My feet are far into the ground where a moat has been dug out. We are almost finished. Raab pours salt water into the moat, and my feet are greeted by the cold rushing in circles around the perimeter of our castle. Bam laughs as I pull them out quickly with a shriek. Dunn is tanning with April and Rake is swimming in the ocean with a dorky snorkel on his head. Jeremy is by the volleyball net flirting with a blond woman. Harry and Phil are up by the pool by now, drinking beer. We are like this until late afternoon, running around, Jeremy destroying our sand castle, fighting against the waves, Bam joining Phil and Harry for a beer. Only half of us go down to the dining area for dinner. The rest of us stay up in Bam's room, completely wiped out, Raab completely red and blistered.

"I told you so," I say from the balcony. Raab flicks me off from the bed, lying sprawled out, he can't even move. Bam is in the shower and Rake flips through channels.  
Dunn sits across from me, smoking a cigarette, his eyes focused on something far out into the ocean, "I see dolphins," he says.  
"Where!?" I jump, turning towards the sea. He points, and I see. Three jump near each other, all showing off high talents.  
"Oh," I say, and I smile at Dunn. He grins and flicks ashes into an ashtray. We sit for a minute before he speaks.  
"Bam seems really happy lately," he says, looking down at the ground.  
"Oh," I say again, twisting my mouth into a pursed tightness.  
"Really. I haven't seen him this gay in a long time." I sneer at his choice of words.  
"He's pretty great," I reply and I pull my feet into the chair, resting my head on my knees.  
"Why the separate rooms?" He asks, puffing out smoke. He's asking this on purpose, and any way I answer this will result in a pre-meditated trap.  
I go with, "That's how he booked them."  
"You guys haven't fucked yet?" He says, eyes wide and narrow. He already knows this, he just wants to hear it from me. I roll my eyes and grunt at him.  
"None ya," I say, glaring.  
"Oh my God!" he says, snickering, smacking his hand against his leg, "Ha-ha! I can't believe it!"  
"Why?" I ask, impatiently.  
"Because Bam usually gets it within the first night, or the first week at least. It's been almost three months!" he pauses on the thought, "Holy shit! Holy mother of fuck that's a long time."  
"It's not that long!" I defend myself, "And it's really not that big of a deal."  
He tries to sustain his excitement on the fact that I had subconsciously admitted to this and he smudges his cigarette into the tray. I cross my arms, my feet hitting the ground. He laughs because I'm pouting. I roll my eyes and start to get up, embarrassed and red.  
"Nah," he says, grabbing my arm, "I'm just fucking with you. Really. I don't care or anything, it's just kind of shocking."  
I stare down, secretly feeling pride that I'm the only girl Bam has been perhaps, waiting for. I nod and shake my arm from him, walking into the room. The warm breeze flows in with me. The sun is barely peeking over the ocean, and Raab is passed out, drool oozing from his mouth onto the pillow. Glomb walks into the room, rubbing his stomach with a smile, "That was the fucking best food," he says. I laugh at him. I like Glomb a lot as I have come to know him. He is the only one besides me and April who will really get it together and clean. Dunn can't even touch anything without snapping it in half, and if he goes, Glomb fixes it easily. He is a math genius, and I wonder why he wasn't around in my high school years of calculus and algebra.  
He sits next to Rake, leaning back onto the bed, sighing. Bam walks out from the bathroom, his hair wet. He wears shorts that go below his knees, and an Element tee. Always so casual. And I think of my faceless ex-boyfriend, wearing designer tuxes everywhere we go. Even to lunch. Even while he plays 'Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds' if I remember vividly from my dream. Or was it a dream?  
"Why is Raab sleeping in my bed?" Bam asks, pointing to the life size swollen strawberry. Glomb shrugs, along with Rake.  
"He can't move," I say, laughing. Bam grunts and says something about him leaving before he is ready to crash. I frown in dismay, because I thought he might come spend the night with me.  
"Your Dad is real cool," Bam says, grabbing a bottled water from the cooler. I nod.  
"We talked a lot when I went up to the pool today. He's really chill," he comments, taking a sip, "and fucking funny."

I smile at this because I really want Harry to like Bam. Harry already thinks I'm crazy for moving in, and leaving my blurred out face ex-boyfriend. It had gone fast I admit, but maybe I was ready to leave long before I did, I just didn't recognize until he opened up a tiny, velvet, black box. I frown at this thought. I rub my head, and I feel a rush of sleepiness overwhelm me. The fat strawberry in Bam's bed appears to be so relaxed and my body aches for this enjoyment.

"I'm going to my room. I'm tired," I say, heading to the door. Bam frowns. I wave as I leave.

I wake up, and I hear seagulls. Waves are loud, but faded along with children's screams. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 10:00 am. Exhaustion fills me again, and I take in a full breath, letting it out as my eyes close.

"You can't come with me!" my Mom yells at me, as she throws clothes into her suitcase. I'm crying so hard I can't breathe. Jeremy is squatting in the corner next to me, his hands over his ears. I'm begging her not to go. A plane ticket to Hawaii sits on the bed, and her wedding ring is thrown on the ground. It has rolled under the dresser, into a pile of dust. My hands are over my face and I suck in air as hard as I can, letting out as saliva runs down my mouth, and snot runs out of my nose. I can't breathe. She slams her suitcase closed, and pulls it of the bed with her ticket. She brushes past me into the dining room, where Harry is sitting on the couch, with his elbows on his knees, hands under his chin. He rocks back and forth. This is a worry habit for Harry, and he does it when he feels out of control. My mother screams at him, throwing down her suitcase, smacking him in the back of his head. He does nothing. She hits him across the face this time, hard. He still does nothing, only flinches.  
"See, Harry? See? You don't even care that I'm fucking another man! Yeah that's right, I'm fucking another man!" she taunts in front of him, "Hurts doesn't it? Well maybe it wouldn't of fucking happened if you would actually fucking touch me you fucking pathetic excuse for a fucking man!"  
Harry stares at the ground, emotionless. I think maybe he knows, or has already known about Phil Abreson. I feel bad about not ever telling him about the oak tree scene. A sadness swells in his eyes, but not tears. His eyes are just dead, not moving. I begin to scream because I think he might really be dying inside, and my Mom screams at me to shut-up and go back into her room. I don't. She sticks her plane ticket in his face and screams, "I'm getting out of here for once! You've kept me here for too long and I'm getting out! I'm getting the fuck out of here!"  
He says nothing to this and her faces squeezes into a mass of anger, "I hate you." She says in a low, disturbing tone. This is when Harry speaks.  
"I love you." Is all he says.  
She laughs at this, muffling back her tears, "Well it's too fucking late now, Harry."  
She picks up her suitcase and walks out of the house, slamming the front door. I see through the bay window her heading to a blue Porsche. I see Phil Abreson leaning against it. He is smiling.  
I scream as I watch my Mother jump into his arms. I scream so loud I can't hear anything at all. I keep screaming until Harry grabs me, telling me to calm down. He hugs me so tight and so warm, I feel the love coming off of him. He stands up and I wrap my legs around him. Something warm oozes down my face. It smells funny and I put my hand under my nose. Blood smears across my fingers with snot and tears. Harry sits me on the dresser where the ring lay forgotten under. He grabs a tissue and wipes my nose.  
I'm still crying as he tells me, "Everything Is going to be okay baby girl. Everything is going to be okay."

He repeats this so many times until he can start believing it. He didn't believe it for a long time.

Sound approaches my ears slowly, and my eyes blink open. I'm facing a pillow, and I turn to the clock. 12:40. I sit up and look around my room, it is empty besides me. I sigh and look down. Blood is smeared into my sheets in a tacky dismay. My pillow is ruined with a big spot of red. I call room service.

I'm still in my pajamas when I walk into Harry's room, the door is cracked. I wonder if he's expecting me to come. Jeremy isn't there. I see Harry on the balcony leaning over. I walk next to him, my arms wrapping around him tightly. He looked over, shocked.  
"An, what's wrong?" he asks me, returning the hug.

"I love you Dad," I say. He is taken back by this, because I never call him 'Dad'. I feel something wet hit the back of my shoulder. I decide not to bring it into attention; I just squeeze as tight as I can.

I eat dinner that night with everyone. Bam hasn't said much since I last saw him in his room. He mostly played with his food at the restaurant we went to, stealing quick glances at me. I'm wondering if he has changed his mind about me. We didn't speak until after dinner when I got a knock at my room door. I set down my book and walk towards the door, unlatching it. Bam stands there, smiling. I walk back into the room, flopping myself onto the bed. I'm mad at him, I decide.

"Hey, uh," he says wearily, "so, um. How are you?"  
I roll my eyes and stare at him. He doesn't say anything, so I decide to talk.  
"Well, I've been really tir- " I start, but he cuts me off, "I'm sorry I was acting weird tonight, I've just been thinking," he says.  
I gulp, "About what?"  
"You," he says, innocently, but almost instantly. He knows that I was going to ask. He knows me in the weirdest ways.  
"Oh?" I manage to squeeze out. Bam walks towards me and jumps next to me, sitting himself upright. He looks down for a minute, playing with his fingers. Then his gaze moves towards me, "You're pretty," he says. I can't help but to smile.  
"I love how you say pretty. No one really says pretty," I begin. He's beginning to frown.  
"I like it," I add, honestly. His mouth twists into a smile. He nods and looks down. We sit there, and I know he won't do anything. I set my hand on his shoulder, pondering on the thought of my next move. I bite my lip as I set my hand on his thigh, moving inwards. He's taken back by this, and sets his hand on mine. We stare at each other for a moment, his blue eyes stinging into my brown. He moves in then, his nose touching mine. He breathes quietly and pushes, our noses brushing. He presses his lips into mine with a force that is filled with aggression but passion. My insides begin to do crazy things, turning and whipping. Butterflies fly endlessly through me, and my arms tingle. At this moment I want Bam to be as close to me as he physically can. I want our bodies to touch with nothing in between them, nothing hiding our skin. I want Bam to be the next and last guy I have sex with. I want this so bad, I don't know what to do, because he is pushing me up to the headboard. I hear his shoes hit the floor, and he is still kissing me. I open my mouth, inviting his tongue. Ours twist together, exploring the insides of each others mouths. He pushes his hips in between my legs, pushing me closer to the headboard. He stops then, pulling back from me. He looks down at me with his icy blue eyes.  
"Do you want this?" he asks, worried.  
"Yes," I say with as much honesty as anyone could ever have. My insides swell with anticipation as I wait for his reply.  
"Now?" he asks.  
I bite my lip and think for a second. Nothing could come bad from this. Nothing in the world could result in disaster from this moment. I smile, and I nod. The smile spreading far across my face. He smiles, leaning into me again, kissing me in his long, pushy way.  
He then pulls away, yanking off his shirt, I helping him. I scan his body with my big eyes. Every dent of muscle, every inch seems so perfect. He moves to the bedside table, leaning over me, pulling out the drawer.  
"I know they keep them in here," He says, "Ah hah." He pulls out a condom from the drawer and I'm impressed.  
"Well, they know what goes on, you know," He says, setting it next to me.  
I unbutton his pants, and push them down with my hands. He kicks them off and they land with his shoes. He slides his hands under my shirt; I shiver because they are slightly cold. His thumbs caress on the top of my rib cage, and right under my breasts. He then pulls outward, grabbing onto the cloth. I watch at my shirt covers my face and then tears away, seeing his face. He pushes his head slowly into my stomach, his hair brushing my boobs, making me breathe hard. I close my eyes as his kisses down my stomach, stopping at my waistline. He moves his hands to my hips as I grab his hair with my hands, tangling it with my fingers. I feel my sweatpants leave me slowly but surely, landing with his jeans. He pauses then, pushing his head into me again, kissing right above the waistband of my panties. Fingers grab the sides of them, pulling down. I don't know where they land, but they are no longer covering me. Nothing is. He moves his hands to where his thumbs touch the inner side of my thighs, pressing in. Kisses move lower and lower until he makes contact with my clit, kissing it so lightly, I tingle everywhere inside. My hands push into his hair involuntarily as I feel him move lower between my legs. I gasp as he kisses my small, hot opening, pushing his tongue into me. I arch my back as he does this for quite sometime, then moving upwards again, kissing up my stomach, my bellybutton, in between my boobs, up my neck, and then my mouth. He pulls away, and says in a quiet whisper, "You taste as sweet as you are."

I smile, giving a giggle. He kisses me again, and my neck. He then takes a breath of air, pulling down his boxers, my hands with him.  
After a few minutes of searching, he rips the condom wrapper with his teeth and tosses it. I wait impatiently as he quickly slides the condom on. There is great anticipation between this moment and when he pushes into me, sending electricity and fire throughout my body, into areas I never knew existed. I moan and arch my back. He crashes into me, his lips tangling into mine. He thrusts slowly, and moans into my mouth, sending vibrations down my spine. With each thrust, comes a wave of nerve inside of me, sending currents and singles in each and every direction. The thrusting increases pace, and I can't feel my feet, they tingle, but I can't feel them when I touch them against the bed.  
It feels like hours of this. Sensations so overwhelming I almost think I might faint or arch my back so high, we tumble over. He is still kissing me, until he pulls down lightly, his top lip on my bottom, enough for him to let out a moan that sounds intense and hard. With this, his back arches, forcing another thrust into me, I moan as I feel all my nerves and waves crash into each other, letting go. My muscles tighten and unravel, his doing the same. He pants as he hits my chest, wrapping his arms around me quickly. I comply, and wrap my arms around him. We both breathe hard.  
Soon, he moves to my side, lying flat. I cuddle into him. His body is hot against mine, and the nook of his shoulder leading to his underarm fits my head perfectly. We lay for a while.

"Bam?" I say into the air.  
"Uh huh?" I hear from above me. I sit up a little to make sure he isn't asleep, and he's not. He stares back at me, his eye bright even in the dark. I shake my head, and push back into his chest.  
"What is it Andy?" he asks, worried. He sits up now, looking down at me.  
"Nothing," I start. I bite my lip and look up, "I want you to stay," I say.  
"I'm not going anywhere?" he almost asks, looking around.  
"No," I say, "I mean. For the long run."  
He smiles, staring right into my eyes, "I'm not going anywhere," he repeats.


End file.
